


Hearts Off Balance

by rowofstars



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: A Monthly Rumbelling, Angry Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hate Sex, Office Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prompt Fic, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 15:26:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12751047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowofstars/pseuds/rowofstars
Summary: Belle works at the same museum as Gold, and while she's attracted to him, he's being a huge ass. After being denied a promotion, she's called into his office, and her frustration, sexual and otherwise, bubbles over. For the November 2017 prompt at a-monthly-rumbelling: "they work opposite each other."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Of course I wrote smut for the non-smut prompt. Of course. ;) I haven't written hate sex in a while, but it was fun having them fight. Also these two have a past non-sexual, non-romantic relationship as college student and teacher/professor. There will be a part 2 for this, it's already in progress. ;)

Dr. Belle French sat back in her chair and rubbed at her temples. The words on her laptop screen were starting to blur, though it was more from frustration than fatigue. The email that was open on her screen was the last thing she wanted to read right now, not after a day where they had hosted four different school groups at the museum, leaving one piece of Phoenician pottery without a handle, two toilets overflowing, and gum stuck to a replica Roman chariot.

 _We are very sorry to inform you,_ the email read, _but the board has decided to pursue other options for the position. You are a valued member..._

Blah, blah, blah; it was all perfunctory bullshit. Her hand slapped down on the desk, shaking the lamp on the corner. It lolled to one side and then the other, almost tipping over the edge. She grabbed it to steady it, then chastised herself for her carelessness. She looked over at the closed door across the hall, and frowned.

Behind it was Dr. Emerson Gold, Executive Director of the museum, and the object of her ire - no matter what the board claimed, the decision had come from him. Two years ago, she thought this was her dream job, a curator of Classics at one of the best museums on the east coast. It was between a job here or one with the Smithsonian, but when she’d found out her old professor, Gold, worked here as well, it seemed like destiny. It was a chance at a career that was fulfilling for her brain and her soul, spending her days with delicate, ancient books, and artifacts that still smelled of the dirt they’d been buried in for thousands of years. 

Except Gold hadn’t wanted to hire her at all. He’d been the only dissension on the committee, something she’d found out a few weeks into her new job. He wasn’t technically her boss, but nothing could be done without his approval, and everyone wanted to stay in his good graces. He held sway over the donors, the board, and the staff, sitting in his office with the door almost always closed, in solitude like some dark wizard in his tower. 

While he was always civil, it was clear he didn’t hold her in high regard. He always seemed to be looking down his nose at her, always finding fault with the decisions she made. At university, he’d been a sarcastic yet fair man, who offered her tea when she showed up during office hours with a page full of questions.

Most of the faculty considered him eccentric, and her classmates groused about him being heavy handed with his red pen and impossible to please. But to her he was a kindred spirit who loved Greek Mythology and laughed at all the naughty jokes in Shakespeare. He seemed to know so much about everything, and she often found herself listening with wide eyes as their conversations veered far off the course material. 

He had changed in the years since he up and left the university in the middle of her final term. She never knew the reason why, but she assumed he left for a job he couldn’t refuse. These days, she’d be lucky if he even acknowledged her when they passed in the hallway. In rare moments he seemed like an actual person, like the teacher she remembered, moments when the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smirked, and when his dark eyes made her breath catch as they settled on her. 

Belle sighed and glanced at his door again. She was always catching herself doing that, hating how much she liked the sight of him in three piece suits. Despite the fact that he was a condescending ass most of the time, she found him frustratingly attractive. 

Everything had gotten worse in the last few months, and the more she tried to find common ground with him, the more he seemed to resist all her efforts. She wanted to strangle him almost as much as she wanted to kiss him senseless, and she hated herself for it. Last week had been the final straw. She put in for a promotion to department director, a position she was more than qualified for.

But the email from the board’s hiring committee told her all she needed to know. 

She closed the message and logged off her computer, glancing towards his office again. His shadow paced back and forth through the frosted glass, and she pressed her lips together. He had done that in class too, walked back and forth across the front of the lecture hall, his cane tapping softly on the floor. Despite his slight build, he commanded attention. There was something in his voice that as soon as he started speaking, everything else went quiet. It was always his voice, that lilting Scottish burr, that she imagined when she was alone.

Shaking her head, she gathered her things, and stuffed her laptop in her oversized messenger bag. Just as she was passing his office, he called out to her

“Miss French?”

She swallowed and turned, trying to tamp down her annoyance as she stuck her head in the partially open door. “Dr. Gold?”

“A moment, if you would,” he ordered rather than asked. 

Gold’s hand indicated the chair in front of his desk, and she dug her nails into her palm to calm herself as she sat.

“I thought we might discuss the unfortunate incident today with the pottery,” he began. “It was on loan from one of our donors, and he was most displeased to hear it was damaged. I told him we would repair it and compensate him for the decreased value. I assume it won’t be a problem to have it the item back to him next week?”

“No,” she replied. Her jaw clenched and she shook her head. “And it’s _Doctor._ ” 

Gold frowned at her, like he was honestly confused, and the rage that had been simmering inside her all day was ready to erupt – every insecurity, every concern, every fear all rolling under the surface, exacerbated by his actions.

“I’m sorry?” he replied.

“Doctor,” she repeated. “ _Doctor French._ ”

Gold sighed and waved his head. “Yes, yes, but this -”

“I have a _fucking_ doctorate!” she snapped and stood up, squaring her shoulders. “And I know you know that since you taught me most of it.”

Gold’s eyebrows lifted and he straightened in his chair. “Do we have a problem, _Doctor_ French?”

She huffed out a short, humorless laugh and put her hands on her hips. “Yeah, we do, _Doctor_ Gold, since you seem to hate me for some reason I don’t understand.”

“I do not -”

She scoffed and interrupted him. “Well, I’m not sure what else to call it.” Her arm lifted out to the side and then dropped, slapping against her skirted thigh. 

Gold frowned and flexed his hands on the arms of his chair. “Listen, Doctor French -”

“No, _you_ listen for once,” she commanded, swallowing hard against the lump in her throat. Her anger was so close to the surface that her skin felt hot. His eyes on her, wide and dark, were not helping either. “I applied for this job because of _you_. I thought we would work well together and get along like we did when I was in school. I always respected you, and thought you were fair and reasonable, but you’ve been nothing but huge _pain in the ass_ to me!”

What she said must have triggered something in Gold because he immediately sat forward. “I have been doing what was best for this museum, and for you!” 

His nostrils flared as he breathed, and his eyes closed for a moment. Belle felt something pull at her, both from his words and the way his eyes flashed in the low light. He seemed more alive in this moment than he had at any point in the previous two years. 

“I was not trying hurt you,” he said, more calmly. “Quite the opposite. I would have thought, if you thought so highly of me before, that you understood my intentions.”

Her lips twisted and she crossed her arms over her chest. The action pulled on her blouse, and she caught his eyes darting between her chest and her face. “Intent is meaningless. Isn’t that what you told me?”

He sighed and tried to give her a stern look. She was pleased when he averted his eyes and closed his mouth, pursing his lips.

“I’m more than qualified to be director of my department,” she continued, “and I’m the only one who wants it. I’ve worked my ass off the last two years, waiting for Dr. Gorm to retire. But _you_ told the board to reject me.”

She said it more like the truth than an accusation, and he shook his head. “I did not _tell_ them -”

Anger flowed through Belle, rushing through her veins and filling her with heat, her pulse skipping as her heart rate increased. Gold licked his lips, and she surprised herself when she noticed a flicker of desire curling low in her belly. She dug deep and latched on to her earlier frustrations, to all the harsh moments that had passed between them, all the times she felt small around him for no reason.

“Don’t lie to me!”

“I haven’t!” He fixed her with a glare and tapped his fingers, which she knew was a sign of his displeasure. “Doctor French, the conversations of the hiring committee are strictly confidential, and entirely professional. Your application was considered and -”

“Bullshit,” she said flatly. “We all know how it is around here. Regina Mills just _thinks_ she’s in charge, the board always follows your lead, you’re the bloody Dark Lord of this place!”

“ _Doctor French_ , you forget yourself.” Then he exhaled and his voice lowered. “Belle, that’s not - I mean it’s -”

She shook he head. “Shut up.”

The ease with which he slipped in their old familiarity angered her. After everything that had happened or not happened between them, she didn’t think he had the right, not to use soft accented voice, not to turn those warm eyes on her. He made as if to stand up but Belle didn’t want him towering over her; she had to keep control. She walked around the desk and he fell back into the chair with a soft grunt. He looked up at her, surprised, but there was something more.

Gold said her name again, but this time his voice had an edge to it, his eyes darkening as she leaned over the chair, her hands braced on the arms just inches from his. He had made so many of the decisions that guided their relationship - the dissolution of their mentorship when he left the college, the strained work environment of the last two years - but now she had the upper hand. She was in charge, and she needed answers.

“Why?” she asked simply, catching the bob of his throat as he swallowed.

He sighed, his face relaxing just a touch as his mouth curved into a small, sad smile. “You know why.”

Memories flashed in her mind. All the soft smiles and kind words, the extra attention and encouragement, the late nights when she left the library and he would walk her all the way to her apartment building. The way he looked at her now was so open and vulnerable, so different from the man she’d know for the last two years, it made her head spin.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t.”

His head tilted up, and she didn’t realize they were so close until she felt the warm puffs of air from his mouth brush her skin.

“Belle,” he breathed.

She moved over him, threading her fingers through his hair, and grabbing a handful, tugging his head back. 

Gold made a noise, low in his throat, and looked at her with wide, dark eyes. “Belle, I–”

She cut his words off with a bruising kiss, all passion and heat, sliding her open mouth over his lips. He gasped and her tongue dipped inside, sweeping over the roof of his mouth, and he shuddered beneath her. 

Belle broke the kiss and moved her hand from the back of his head to press a finger to his lips. “No more talking.”

She straddled him then, knees on either side of his hips, as his hands came up to hold her waist. She kissed him again, slower and deeper this time, but pulled away as his hand came up to her hair. Her eyes searched his, seeking some kind of assurance that whatever was happening, he was feeling it too. He pulled her down and nipped at her bottom lip, hard, the hand at her waist moving around to cup her bottom through her skirt. She answered by lifting her skirt and settling in his lap, rocking her hips into his as she started tugging on his tie.

Gold squeezed her ass and groaned when she worked the cloth loose and popped the first button on his shirt. Her warm hand slipped inside, pushing the collar open, and he sighed. “We can’t - ”

Belle shook her head and pressed her fingers to his lips again. He swallowed, holding her gaze, she punished him by sinking her teeth into the place where his neck and shoulder met. He tensed, then whimpered when her tongue swirled over the red mark her mouth left behind.

She turned her head into his neck, nipping at the straining muscles. “Stop. Talking. Emerson.” 

Each word was punctuated by her lips dragging over his skin, kissing her way up to the underside of his jaw. She took his hand from her hair and placed it on her breast. “Touch me,” she hissed. 

Gold keened like she was torturing him, and he set to work undoing one more button on her blouse so he could slip his hand inside. He massaged her breast, squeezing and palming the soft flesh until her nipple pushed against the lacy fabric. Her hips rocked and met the hard ridge of his erection straining against the front of his trousers. 

Belle sighed and pushed her chest into his palm as she yanked her blouse from the waistband of her skirt. She hastily opened the last few buttons, and spread open her shirt. Throbbing heat was rolling through her now, desire and arousal flooding her senses. She needed more, needed friction and touch and him. She rubbed against his hardness, each twitch of her hips forcing his erection to press against her clit. Even though layers of clothing she could feel the searing heat of his body.

She threw her head back as his hands cupped her breast, thumbs and fingers teasing and tugging at her nipples. She cried out and leaned close, their lips brushing, messy and wet.

Gold grunted as she pressed down particularly hard, giving back just a fraction of the pleasure she was taking from him. “Belle,” he pleaded. “Please, sweetheart. Let me touch you.”

The sound of him begging sent a frisson of pleasure through her. After years of feeling like nothing but his employee, of feeling overlooked and unappreciated, the sound of Gold asking her for permission felt so right. She was powerful, in control, and wanted. 

She kissed him again and felt him gasping into her mouth. Her hips pitched forward and his hands went to her waist again, trying desperately to hold her there as she swallowed all his little sounds. His mouth was hot and desperate beneath hers, yielding to her every touch. She sucked lightly on his tongue and Gold’s hips jerked upwards in response, the blunt head of his cock so, so close to pressing inside her. If they hadn’t been clothed, he would be buried in her, hard and hot. Her pussy clenched, and she bit her lip.

The thought of taking exactly what she wanted without guilt or fear thrilled her. He was so pliant and needy, and the feeling of him wanting her so much made her dizzy. She widened her knees and sunk lower, settling into a fast rhythm with her hips, rocking against his hardness. Each movement bringing her closer and closer to the edge.

But it wasn’t quite enough. She needed more pressure and the thought of fucking him here in his office, his seat of power, appealed to her. 

“Touch me,” she commanded, breathless. “Emery, please.”

The name slipped out unbidden, and she remembered the first time it had happened, alone in the library searching the stacks for a book that ended up being shelved in the wrong section. He hadn’t chastised her, just smiled slyly and sent her insides flying.

Obediently, he stretched up, planting kisses along her neck as he ran his hand up and down her side, from her breast to her thigh. “Where, sweetheart?”

Belle took his hand and placed it between her legs, shuddering as he cupped her through the wet silk. She knew he would feel her desire for him, through the damp, hot fabric, and she wasn’t the least bit ashamed.

He looked at her, eyes filled with desire and wonder. “Beautiful Belle.”

Gold’s fingers slipped under the elastic to touch her slick flesh, and she moaned, letting her head fall back to expose her neck. His kissed and licked at her neck as she moved, his palm a much better source of friction. She rocked harder against him, his fingers curling and stroking over her center before pushing two fingers inside. 

He swore under his breath and reached up with his free hand to fondle her breast, rubbing and pinching at her nipple, the same as he was doing between her legs. “So wet and hot for me,” he whispered, brushing his lips over hers. 

She was so, so close, and Gold seemed to know she needed just a little bit more to push her over the edge. His thumb reached up and pressed against her clit, rubbing it as she rolled her hips. 

“Yes, love, yes,” he mumbled. “ _Please_ , sweetheart, please come for me. Let me see you.”

The groveling and pleading went straight to her core, and she braced herself on his shoulders, pressing down into his hand. She came hard and kissed him messily, her cries muffled by his mouth. His hand kept moving, slower now that her hips had stilled, but enough to draw out her pleasure through the pulsing and twitching of her pussy.

Belle trembled in his arms for a long moment, trying to catch her breath. Gold held her against him, his erection still straining the front of his trousers. Her hips wriggled, pushing his hand and her sticky juices against his restrained cock. He made a high, whimpering noise, and she held his gaze as she slid off his lap. Slowly, she stood and dragged her hand down over him, enjoying the sound of his hiss as her hand gave him just enough pressure.

He shifted and lifted his hips towards her as she pulled away. “Belle, please!”

Gold’s eyes were wide, dark, and pleading. He looked wrecked and debauched, desperate for anything she would give him, but she shook her head. Standing up fully, She let him watch her button and straighten her blouse, and smooth her skirt down over her hips. Her panties were uncomfortably wet and the juices from her orgasm coated her thighs.

 

She stepped back from him and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear. “When you’re ready to stop being an asshole and be honest with me, you know where I live.”

With that, Belle spun on her heel, not sparing him another look, and left, leaving Gold alone with his unattended erection, panting and wanting. For once, she got exactly what she wanted from him, and even though she was probably fired, the hum of satisfaction in her veins and the look on his face had been worth it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events in Gold's office the previous night, Belle assumes she's fired only for Gold to show up at her door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god I AM SO SORRY. It has been 84 years and I meant to update this much faster. The good news is the last chapter is about 80% complete and mostly needs some editing and tweaks to the smut.

Belle made it as far as the elevator at the end of the hall before she lost it.

Her confident strides slowed, and one of her heels skipped on the tile, leaving a black scuff mark behind. In the lift she almost collapsed, leaning heavily against the wall until it dinged on the parking garage level. Her heart pounded all the way home, making her so jittery she almost ran a red light. Outside her apartment building, she sat in her car with her head resting on the steering wheel, breathing in and out slowly until she felt more normal.

The events at the office replayed in her head over and over, driving her to distraction until she gave into the burning ache between her thighs. In the shower she used her hand and made herself come again, thinking about what she had wanted to do to Gold before she decided to leave him with a raging hard-on in his own office. She thought about dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth, sucking him off long and slow, or fucking him hard and fast in the chair, making him scream her name. Later, in bed and still restless, she came one more time with her vibrator pressed to her clit, wishing it was his mouth instead.

She had been certain there would be a terse email in her inbox by the time she got home, informing her not to show up for work on Monday and that her final paycheck would be mailed. It never came. Saturday was her day off, but instead of lunch with Ruby and finishing her new mystery novel as she’d planned, she spent the day waiting anxiously while the museum was open, assuming Gold would be in the office for part of the morning as he usually was. She checked her messages so often that her phone almost went dead.

It was plugged in, charging in her kitchen, when she was startled by the vibration against the countertop.

She stared at it for a long moment, her hand clenching around the sponge she’d been using to scrub the pan she’d used to make dinner, dripping soapy water on the floor. Scrambled eggs had been the only thing that her stomach could handle. The pan rattled, as she dropped it and the sponge, and leaned over the sink. Her eyes closed and she took a few calming breaths before she turned and picked up her phone to see a text message on the screen.

It was from Gold.

_Are you home?_

Belle bit her lip. Was he actually trying to take her up on her offer to come over? She set the phone down and spun on her heel, moving to the fridge where she pulled out a bottle of white wine she’d been nursing through the last week. Sometimes she liked to come home and have a glass after a long day, or two glasses if Gold had been a particularly irritating prat. The cork came out with a wet pop, and she pressed the bottle against her lips, tipping it back to take a long swig. It was uncouth, but she didn’t care, gulping down another mouthful before she set it on the counter next to her phone.

She picked it up again, swiped her thumb over the screen, and then tapped out a terse, one word reply.

_Yes._

While she waited to see if he’d respond, she got a wine glass out of the cabinet and emptied the bottle into it. The phone buzzed again while she was putting away the dishes.

_May I come over?_

She blew out a breath and swallowed hard. This was it. He was probably going to come over and rake her over the coals in person, rather than putting it in an email or a formal letter. Plus it kept their conflict out of the museum where others might overhear and start rumors. Perhaps he was afraid she would bringing legal retaliation against him, or some such nonsense. Not as if she’d have standing, not after she’d all but fucked him in his office.

Her pulse skipped at the memory and she lifted the wine glass to her lips as she set the phone down. _Let him stew,_ she thought, sipping at her drink as she moved into the living room and flopped down on the sofa. Turnabout’s fair play. After all, she’d been left wondering about his feelings for years.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Gold sat in his office for almost an hour before he managed to move from his chair. His erection had subsided after a few minutes, but the front of his trousers was stained with - _Belle_. He carried his coat looped over his arm and held it in front of him, just in case, but the only person he saw on his way out of the building was the security guard in the parking garage.

When he got home, he wasted no time in shedding his clothes and taking a long shower. The water was hotter than he usually liked, but it didn’t compare to Belle’s tempting, wet heat. She’d left him high and dry, and he couldn’t blame her one bit. He wasn’t worthy of her, not her attention or her affection, and certainly not the forbidden pleasure of her body. It didn’t keep him from imagining it though, as he had so many times since they’d met. He came hard to thoughts of her on her knees, rubbing herself to another orgasm as she took his cock all the way down her throat. There was no one around to hear him, not in his big, old house where he lived all by himself, but he still bit his lip and refused to call her name.

It wasn’t enough, though. He slept fitfully, startling awake from a dream in the middle of the night, swearing he could still smell the sweetness of her pussy on his fingers. His cock strained against his silk pajama bottoms, so he gave in and stroked himself to the image of Belle writhing on his desk as he licked her until she screamed.

He awoke early on Saturday, expecting to find an email from Belle containing her resignation. He didn’t want her to resign, but after what had happened, it was the next logical conclusion. She’d more than made her point, and now she would leave him forever with nothing but a beautiful, passionate memory. It was still far more than he deserved.

Gold went into the office and stayed for the morning as usual, though he caught himself snapping at Dr. Fa more than once. He left before noon and grabbed lunch on his way home, even though his stomach didn’t really feel up for it. He kept looking at his phone, waiting for the moment when the email notification would pop up with Belle’s polite, perfunctory words. Between the lines she would be telling him to go fuck himself, much as she had when she left his office.

When evening rolled around and there was still no message of any kind, he decided maybe her offer to come find her had been genuine. He was more than ready to stop being an arse, but admitting the truth would be hard. It would mean laying out all his mistakes, baring his soul in a way. That he wasn’t sure he was ready for, but if he had any hope of at least leaving things on a better note, he needed to be the one to extend the olive branch.

It took him almost twenty minutes to compose one text message, and in the end it conveyed nothing. Her reply came a few minutes later in the form of one word. He could hear the shortness in her voice and feel the glare all the way through the phone. Never had a simple “Yes” seemed so harsh, not even when he’d asked Milah if she wanted a divorce.

He went to the cabinet next to the fireplace and poured himself a finger of scotch, downing it one gulp before he messaged her again. After fifteen more minutes, when there was no further reply, he took it as a sign that only prostrating himself on her doorstep and groveling for forgiveness would do.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The knock on the apartment door was loud and sharp, shattering Belle’s quiet contemplation. She startled in her seat and almost knocked her empty wine glass off the coffee table as she hurried to stand up. Her hand was on the door, pulling it open before she’d taken the time to consider who would be on the other side.

Her eyes settled on Gold and the breath rushed out of her. She’d forgotten to answer his last text message, too distracted by her little pity party and her plan to make him wonder if she’d reply at all. The idea of him actually showing up at her door seemed impossible, yet here he was.

“Hey,” Gold said hesitantly. He stood with his hands folded over the handle of his cane and placed directly in front of him as if it was something he could hide behind when she started throwing things at him.

“Hey,” she breathed. Her knuckles were white on the edge of the door. She warred internally with the prospect of just shutting it in his face, but if she did, then it would be all over and she’d have no answers.

“Well,” he started, shifting from one foot to another and giving her her a small, tight smile. “Here I am, proverbial hat in hand.” 

She blinked at him, her eyes darting from his face to his hands and back again. 

“Can I, uh -?” he asked, inclining his head.

“Oh,” she said, stepping back and holding the door open. “Yeah, uh - yeah, come in.”

She frowned as he moved passed her, trying to summon the thread of indignant rage toward him that made her so brave and bold in his office. It had waned in the time since, replaced by the ever-present confusion and frustration that followed her home every other day. Sighing, she shut the door and moved back to her sofa, pushing passed him to flop down on the cushions and tuck herself into the corner. If he was here to make an attempt at an apology, she wanted him to work for it.

Gold turned and sat at the other end of the small sofa. He fiddled quietly with his cane for a long moment before leaning it against the side table. “So...”

She shifted and shrugged. “So.”

He looked around the room and cleared his throat. She looked soft and comfortable in her oversized shirt and leggings. Young too, and he was reminded again of how much distance there was between them. “Nice place. It’s -”

“Why?” she asked, interrupting him.

He frowned. “Why...what?”

Belle gave him a look. “You _know_ what,” she snapped. He looked away, and she sighed. “Why did you transfer me to another advisor? Why did you leave the university without so much as a farewell email? And why have you been a _complete_ ass to me the last two years? Why to _all_ of it?”

He swallowed hard, unable to look at her. “I thought you knew why.”

“No. _Actually_ , I don’t.” She huffed and shook her head. “I thought I must have done something to piss you off on the trip. I wracked my brain for _weeks_ after we got back, replaying everything, questioning every minute I spent in your presence.”

He looked up, hating the thought of her blaming herself for his choices. “Belle, please, I -”

She held up a hand to shut him up. “Then I wondered if it was because you’d decided to work things out with your ex-wife, _god_ knows why. Except I heard she’d run off to Paris with some wannabe rock star and his shitty garage band? Is that true?”

Gold snorted. “No, that’s - that’s not why,” he said. “And they’re married now, by the way.”

Belle blinked. “Wow.” She hadn’t been expecting the rumor to be true. The idea that Milah would leave Emerson Gold for some guyliner-wearing drummer seemed like the kind of thing students would start spreading as a joke. She shook her head as if to clear the image and then twisted on the sofa to face him. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you ghosted me, and then acted like I kicked your dog or something!”

Gold sighed. “I left the university, and took the job here to be closer to Neal,” he explained. “He was seventeen and his mother had just swanned off to France with her boyfriend.”

“Oh...” Belle pulled a face. She hadn’t realized how young Gold’s son was when everything happened, and a part of her felt guilty over having been so focused on her own feelings. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

He waved a hand and glanced at her sideways. “No, no, it’s fine, he’s fine. But that wasn’t why you had to transfer advisors or why I’ve been such a bloody arse to you. This is - I mean I -” 

He sighed again and resisted the urge to reach for her hand. If he made a move to touch her, he’d want to do so much more. “I have no idea how to start, except to say that I’m sorry. I know my behavior in your time at the museum hasn’t been the best. I foolishly thought I was doing you a favor by putting some distance between us, both at school and here. I thought I was protecting you.”

Belle clenched her jaw and then a beat later forced herself to relax and take a breath. Keeping up her anger had taken a lot out of her over the years and she didn’t need to give herself a headache when she was finally getting the answers she’d wanted for so long. “How is making me think you hate me because I did something wrong, or because I’m not good enough at my job, doing me a favor?”

Gold winced. “I know you know what it’s like for women in our field, and what it was like in academia. The chauvinism, the bias, _the rumors_ ,” he said, giving her a sympathetic look. “The things I’ve heard said about Mal, about Regina? Ridiculous. And disgusting. I knew it would be hard enough for you without our relationship adding fuel to the fire, so I backed away and did my best to make it appear as though there was never anything between us. I never wanted anyone to question your abilities or your brilliance.”

Belle rolled her eyes. “Yeah, who isn’t aware of that stuff anymore, besides the idiots that perpetuate it? But I _never_ thought you were one of those misogynist jerks. You may have been a little difficult to please as a teacher, but you were always fair, and you always had rules.” She ran a hand through her hair and watched his fingertips twitch against the fabric of the sofa cushion. “But when we came back from Europe it was like - like some switch got flipped and I was left in the dark. It wasn’t fair!”

“I’m so sorry, Belle,” he said softly, staring down at his hand before meeting her eyes. “Truly.”

“At least you’ve gotten better at saying it out loud,” she said, smirking.

He gave her a half smile. “I practiced in the mirror.”

Belle let out a short laugh and shook her head. “So, what happened?” she asked, her stomach dipping like it had before she’d barged into his office the previous evening. She felt close to understanding something and it made her nervous. “What did I do that you thought you had to protect me from all the sexist pricks in the world so much that you almost turned into one?”

Gold’s lips twisted in disgust. He hadn’t realized what it must have looked like from the outside. “It wasn’t you. _Please_ understand that,” he said, finally reaching for her hand and letting his fingers brush hers reassuringly. “I knew when we left on the trip things would only get worse, but I thought I was alone in my feelings, and it would always remain one-sided. I thought as long as I controlled myself, it would all be okay. I could have you near, but keep you at arm’s length. Eventually we could be proper friends and colleagues.”

She looked down at their hands, barely touching, as she realized it was her fault too, in a way. “But then I showed up at your door,” she said quietly, her voice just above a whisper.

He nodded, his throat tightening with emotion as old memories bubbled to the surface once more. “But then you showed up at my door,” he repeated, making himself look her in the eyes again. She looked so beautiful, with her hair down and the little freckles on her nose visible without her usual layers of makeup. “You can’t imagine what you looked like in that moment. The city and the sunset behind you, your hair and your eyes and that pale blue dress. So young and beautiful.” he put her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. “You were a vision, an _angel_ , and I was fresh off a bitter divorce, and -”

“No,” she said, reaching for him, trying to keep her voice from cracking. His words tugged at her heart and propelled her mind back to a time when things had seemed so much simpler. “You were handsome and smart and funny, and you had that streak of silver hair at your temple.”

His lips curved and he rolled his eyes. “The only one I had at the time.”

She dipped her head and grinned, glancing sideways at their fingers, curved together. “I’d never seen you in jeans before our trip, and you walked into the airport with that bag slung over your shoulder, and that _hat_? It was like you were some kind of Indiana Jones.”

Gold groaned. “ _God_ , I really did that, didn’t I?”

“You did,” she said, nodding and biting her lip. “But it made an impression.”

He looked down at their hands and sighed again, his voice soft as he spoke. “I should have let you in that night. I should have been honest with you and let you decide for yourself.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “You should have.”

“I’ve always remembered, you know,” he said. She looked up and tilted her head in question, and he smiled. “What you said the first time we really talked, about choosing your own fate. It was the day there was the fire in the engineering building.”

“And then the storm took out the lights?” she added, letting herself relax against the back of the sofa. “ _God_ , that day sucked.”

He grinned. “No, it didn’t.” She rolled her head to the side against the sofa cushion, and he shifted closer. “You came to my office, soaking wet from the rain, to apologize because you were going to be late handing in your essay. As if class hadn’t been canceled and I was going to demand students show up in a near tornado to hand in their work.”

She sat up, perching on the edge of the sofa, and huffed defensively. “I was in the building anyway!”

“Then why were you soaked to the skin?” he countered, smirking when she blushed.

“That’s _so_ not the point here,” she muttered, fighting the urge to smile. It felt good to have a little of their old relationship back, the easy teasing and banter that had occupied more than a few late evenings slogged through undergrad essays and exams.

“No, it’s not,” he conceded, his grin shifting to something softer and wistful. “But that was where it started. For me.” He sighed again and pulled his hand away as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I should have done so many things differently.”

Belle shifted closer until there was only a few inches between them, and ducked her head to try to see his face. “So you thought - what? Everyone would think I got good grades because you had a thing for me? Because we talked and had tea and flirted over the fucking _Iliad_?”

Gold chuckled at her description of their relationship. “It’s happened before,” he said. “Not to me, but -”

“ _No one_ was saying anything,” she insisted.

He exhaled and his shoulders slumped. “They were.”

“What?” she questioned, sitting up straighter. “Who? What did they say?”

“Do you remember Ms. Blue?”

She frowned for a moment in thought. “The busybody Humanities professor no one liked?”

“She’s the one.” He smiled ruefully. “She, uh, she approached me before the trip. She said she knew what was going on between us. In the same breath she implied I was a lecherous old man using my power to coerce a student, _and_ that you were - _courting favor_.” His nose wrinkled in disgust and he shook his head. “When we got back, she came to me again and said she was going to Administration with a formal complaint. She showed it to me and it - it implied _things_ about you that were patently false. I couldn’t let it stand.”

Belle was immediately incensed. “But she didn’t have any proof! I would have defended you, we could have handled this together.” She let out a frustrated noise and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back angrily as she twisted to face him. “You didn’t need to push me away or almost ruin my career over it.”

Gold shook his head and stood up, pushing hard on his cane. “I knew what would happen, Belle. I’ve seen it before.” He looked down at the coffee table and pressed his lips together. “The board would have done everything and anything to protect the university’s reputation and their’s. I’d get a slap on the wrist, you’d get put on probation on the way to them forcing you into a transfer, or pulling your scholarship.”

Her face felt hot and she swallowed hard. There was a lump settling in her belly, hard and cold as she accepted the truth of what he was saying. “I wouldn’t have been able to afford school without it.”

“I know,” he sighed. “So I went to Mal, and convinced her to take you on as her second GA, which would have looked even better on a resume than my name. When Neal called me and told me Milah was staying out until all hours partying and about her plans to leave for France, I knew the way out. I would leave at the end of the semester and move so my son could live with me.” He shrugged. “I thought I’d covered all my bases. You were safe and I had a reasonable excuse to go. I didn’t know Mal would change her mind and assign you to Spencer instead. If I had...” He lifted a hand and then let it fall against his leg with a slap.

Belle stood up and went to his side. She rested a hand on his shoulder and gave him a comforting squeeze. “You would have intervened, I know. You disliked him even more than I did.”

“Aye,” he said, nodding forlornly. “And I’m sorry I didn’t know. I left for this job and I thought I’d never look back.” He looked down at her, a slight smile curving the corner of his mouth. “But when your CV crossed my desk I couldn’t help it.”

She smiled back at him, and some of the anxiety she’d been carrying abated. “That explains the sudden switch of advisors, and you leaving, but why the last two years? We’re both adults in our careers now, and you’re not even my direct supervisor. All that stuff with Blue was over. Why act like an ass to me?”

“Because it wasn’t over,” he answered simply, turning away from her gaze. “When you applied her - _partner_ \- was on the board of directors. I was afraid she’d spread her rumors and half-truths and poison the well, as it were. Either you’d never get the job, or you would and then they’d ruin you, or they’d ruin both of us. Even if they fired me or I resigned, you’d be stigmatized for far longer.”

Belle huffed and shifted away from him, folding her arms over her chest. “But that’s ridiculous! It’s not like that -”

Gold spun on his heel. “ _Yes_. It is. I watched Regina go through it. It took her over a decade to claw her way back.”

Her eyes went wide. “Director Mills?”

“Yeah,” he said, twisting his cane against the floor. “It’s a long story, but I couldn’t watch them to do it to you too, nor could I be the reason it happened.”

She bit her lip thoughtfully. “Emery, I appreciate your desire to protect me and my career, but you should have _told me_. You should have been honest about the situation and let _me_ decide.”

He nodded. “I know, but I don’t regret trying to protect you. I will _never_ be sorry because it was the only thing I could think to do at the time.” He met her gaze, his eyes soft and regretful. “But I do regret hurting you in the process, and I understand why you feel the way you do.”

With that he rose and started moving towards the door, leaning more heavily on his cane than when he’d arrived, and Belle frowned. “Where are you going?”

Gold stopped halfway to the door and turned around. “You have the answers you wanted; we should probably leave it there for now.”

“But -,” she frowned again and took a few steps forward. ”But what about the promotion? Why - why not just tell me? Why let the board send that insultingly perfunctory email?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” He smiled. “You were right about that. I did influence the board to reject you.”

“ _What!?_ ” Her expression changed in a heartbeat from confused to enraged. Anger flashed in her eyes as she closed the distance between them. “Why? Because you don’t think I’m ready, or that I can do it? Because I -”

“Oh, I know you can do it,” he said calmly. A lock of hair fell across her forehead and down along the corner of her eyes. He reached up and brushed it back, allowing himself one last brief contact before he left. “Quite the contrary. I know you could do it in your sleep.” She blinked up at he started to smile. “I told them to reject you for the job because I wanted them to offer you mine.”

She blinked again. “What...?”

“I’m handing in my resignation on Monday,” he said, “effective the end of the month. I’m going to go back to teaching and research at the university. They’ve offered me department chair since Mal is leaving.”

“But - I - you - wha...?” she sputtered.

Gold laughed. You didn’t get this promotion because you’re going to get an even bigger one.”

She shook her head, and somehow righted her brain enough to ask proper questions and form full sentences. “Don’t I have to interview and - and - I - _wow.What?_ ” 

Well, almost full sentences.

He set his cane aside and took her by the shoulders, drawing her as close as he dared. “You already interviewed, Dr. French, and you already have the job if you want it.”

“Holy shit,” Belle whispered, and he laughed again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to tell you this way, but -”

His words were cut off by the firm pressure of her lips against his. On reflex, he pulled her to him and felt her smile against his mouth.

“Thank you,” she said, her mouth still hovering near his. Then she kissed him again, a little softer. “I’m still a mad at you though.” He mumbled out an okay, but didn’t pull away, and she started to grin. “That means we won’t be working together anymore.”

Gold leaned back and brushed his thumb against her cheek. “Unfortunately, not.”

“So...,” she started, “there’s no reason you can’t...stay?”

“S-stay?” he repeated, his voice cracking. 

Belle stepped back and took his hands, smiling as she pulling him towards the sofa. “With me.”

He stumbled a bit, left unsteady by the absence of his cane. “Belle, I - _oof_.” He stopped when her hand pushed gently on his chest and he sat down hard on the sofa. “I don’t think -”

She wasted no time in dropping down over him, straddling his lap. The minute her body pressed against his, he made a strangled noise, much like he had the previous evening in his office. “Good,” she said. “Don’t think.” 

Then she kissed him hard, slipping her tongue between his lips as soon as he allowed it, and pulling a low noise from the back of his throat. She could feel him holding back until she nipped at his bottom lip, a little harsher than necessary. A second later, his fingers dug into her waist and his hands pulled her over him until their hips were flush. 

She gasped and her mouth slanted over his while her hands slipped into his hair, sliding along the soft strands as their kisses grew more urgent. He moaned into her mouth when she scraped her short nails over his scalp, breaking the kiss as he shuddered beneath her.

She was panting when she leaned her forehead against his. “Thinking is how we got so messed up in the first place.”

“No, not - trusting you - is how I messed - everything up,” he said in between soft, wet kisses that pulled at her lips. “I swear to you, Belle, never again.”

Belle smiled and held his face in her hands. “I know.” Then she shifted her hips against him and he made a tight, strained sound. “I also know I left you in quite a state last night.”

Gold smirked and let his hands run up and down her back.“I think I rather deserved it after everything. And I’m _still_ your boss.”

Belle hummed. “Not for long you’re not.” She moved again and felt him lift his hips into her. “Do you want to wait?”

His head fell back against the sofa as he groaned. “ _Fuck_ , Belle, I’ll resign today if I have to. Hand me my phone.”

She giggled and worked her hand between them, stroking the outline of his cock through his trousers. “Did you take care of yourself after I left?”

“Yes,” he hissed, tightening his grip on her waist as he shifted beneath her. Her shirt stretched over her breasts and he realized she wasn’t wearing anything under it.

“In your office?” she asked, pressing her palm into the hard ridge and feeling a rush of arousal between her legs.

Gold shook his head, letting his eyes linger on her chest. He wanted to put his mouth on her, suck her nipples through her shirt and tease her like she was teasing him. “Home," he managed. "In the sh-shower.” 

She moved again, sitting more upright to put her chest and eye level. “Mmm. Me too.”

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Belle, please.”

She licked her lips and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his trousers, pulling on his belt. “Did you think about me?” she asked, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “About me coming in your lap?”

His hand came up to push back her hair. “Yes. And -” He was cut off by her breasts brushing against his face.

Belle caught his wrist and moved his hand to her chest. “And what? Did you think about me on my knees, sucking you off?”

Gold squeezed her breast through the thin shirt and plucked at the nipple. “Yes. I thought - I thought about you making yourself come while you did it,” he confessed. “I thought about laying you down on my desk and using my tongue to make you scream.” He brought his other hand up and cupped her gently, then pinched and tugged both nipples through her shirt until she keened. 

“It’s all I’ve thought about for three and a half years, sweetheart. Having you this way.” He wanted to say loving, but he wasn’t sure if either of them was ready.

She cried out and starting moving against him, desperate to satisfy the ache between her thighs. “Oh - _god_ , me too. Emery - _fuck_.”

He leaned back and ran his hands down her sides to give her backside a rough squeeze. The sofa was more than serviceable, but after the debauchery in his office, he wanted something more, something better for both them than a quick shag on the nearest horizontal surface. “Bedroom, _Dr._ French?”

Belle grinned down at him, her teeth pressing into her lip, swollen from their kisses. “Excellent idea, _Dr._ Gold.”

She slid off his lap and looked down at him, feeling a bit of déjà vu as she took in his rumpled, aroused state. Then she held out her hand and pulled him up, threading their fingers together as she lead him to her bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex is had, feelings are admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pure, pointless porn. Nothing else to see here. ;)

They stepped through the bedroom door and Gold felt everything change. 

All their arguments, the anger, the struggle to communicate, even their light, teasing words were crushed under the weight of this moment. There was intent in what was about to happen, beyond a one off sexual encounter in his office, beyond flirting over coursework and research. He was in Belle French’s bedroom, about to make love to her. Well, as long as he managed not to make an arse of himself.

He stopped between the door and the bed, and when she turned at the tug on her arms, he pulled her to him.

“What are -?” she started to say just before he spun them both and pushed her against the wall.

For a second she thought he would try to talk her out of this, out of them, with some nonsense about how he was too old, or how they technically still worked together, but the warm whiskey brown of his eyes had darkened with unspoken heat. Her breath caught and her hands came up to his shoulders, lips parting as she expected him to kiss her.

Ever so slowly Gold pressed against her, sliding one strong thigh between her legs until she was flush against the wall. There was a clatter as his cane fell to the floor, discarded so his hands could hold her hips. He guided her gently as he shifted his thigh forward, pressing up as she ground against him. Her fingers tightened, nails digging through his dress shirt and into his skin as she started to rock against him. He lowered his head and kissed her softly, pulling at her lips until she reached up around his neck. Her breathing quickened, and he could feel the press of her breasts against his chest and the flexing of her legs around his.

Belle broke the kiss, panting for air. A crimson flush spread across her chest, burning up her neck, touching her cheeks. She felt hot from head to toe, but there was gooseflesh on her arms. Biting her lip, she hitched one leg higher, curving it around his waist. “Emery -”

She shuddered and suddenly nothing else in the world seemed to matter to him except seeing her come again, right here against the wall of her bedroom. He wanted her to watch her come before they’d even made it to the bed, before he even got his cock inside her. He cupped her backside with both hands, guiding her movements as she gave herself over to the friction, the push and pull that sent her spiraling closer and closer to release.

"That's it, sweetheart," he cooed, and she gasped in response.

Heat built in her core, a tight, burning ache that drove her hips faster and faster. The seam of her leggings caught her clit perfectly, sending sharp zings of pleasure through her as the fabric rubbed back and forth. She cried out when it all became too much, trembling in his arms as her movements stuttered to a halt. Her thighs squeezed his, hard, body freezing for an instant before she collapsed against his chest, whimpering and shivering her delight. 

"That was...unexpected," she said, mumbling into his shirt. Her cheeks were hot, blushing furiously as she glanced up at him.

"We're just getting started," he answered, smirking when she tucked her face into the crook of his neck and giggled.

After a long moment, she pushed on his chest and he moved away, easing her leg down from his waist. She reached for the hem of her t-shirt, pausing for a moment, giving him a wicked grin before she pulled it up and over her head, baring her breasts. Her eyes trailed up and down his body, from his shaggy hair to the firm ridge of his cock, tenting the front of his trousers. She held his gaze as she tucked her thumbs in the waistband of her leggings and pushed them down, rolling the stretchy fabric over her hips. 

His mind blanked when he saw that she wasn’t wearing anything under her leggings either. “Belle...”

She licked her lips when he said her name, breathy and awed, then quirked an eyebrow. “Your turn.”

She gave Gold another soft shove and he stepped backwards as she went forwards, shedding his jacket as he went and stopping when his legs hit the edge of her bed. He popped the buttons on his shirt quickly, and braced himself mentally as he tossed it to the side, waiting to see some sign of rejection. There was only hunger for him in her gaze. His hands dropped to his belt, pulling the leather open as her mouth gaped and her breathing grew more rapid. He paused to push his dress shoes off before he let his trousers fall, the buckle of the belt clanking on the floor.

Belle followed him and pushed him backward until he dropped on the bed, then she straddled his lap. His hands went to her back, smoothing up and down over her bare skin along her spine to the dip above her backside and the curve of her hips. She felt him hesitate to go any lower, his fingers flexing with barely constrained desire, and her belly clenched.

“What do you want?” she asked, dipping her head to teasing him with a soft, wet brush of her mouth across his. She took his right hand and guided it between her legs, just as she had the previous night in his office. “Emery.”

"I want -" he started, pausing to swallow and lick his lips. 

He could feel how warm and wet she was, the insides of her thighs sticky from her orgasm. He slowly pushed his index finger in, and she bucked against him, pushing her hips towards him. His other hand moved down to her ass, lifting her up so he could get a better angle. She closed her eyes and let her forehead fall against his, groaning as he added a second finger, sliding it easily into her. He stared up at her, wanting to catch each expression that crossed her face and bask in the warmth of her body.

"Tell me," she whispered, starting to rock against his fingers. " _Please._ "

"I want to touch you," he said, and her face flushed pink even though he was already more than touching her. Voicing this depravity felt embarrassing, but Belle was digging her nails into his shoulders and her mouth opened in a moan when he pushed deep into her and curled his fingers. He needed to start making up for lost time, for the years he missed out on doing this with her because of his own stubbornness.

"I want to taste you and fuck you,” he said finally. “I want you to come on my hand, my face, my cock. I want to make you scream with how good it feels." 

Another few thrusts and she came with another loud cry, clenching around his fingers, her juices running down to his wrist. He stayed inside her, feeling the little flutters of her pussy as she worked through her orgasm and came back to herself. Her mouth sought his, tongue pushing into his mouth as she let out a long groan.

She broke the kiss and gasped in surprise, and he grinned as he raising his hand to his mouth and sucked her juices from his hand. His eyelids fluttered as he pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, and she moaned, leaning in to claim his mouth again, chasing the taste of herself on his tongue.

When she broke the kiss, he started nibbling his way along her jaw and down her neck. “So you have a list?”

Gold licked at her pulse point and then sucked it gently. “Yes,” he admitted. “I’ve had it since before you showed up at my door in that little blue dress. Deviant things I want to do to Belle French.”

Belle pushed him away smiling. “You and your lists,” she teased, remembering how many little notebooks he’d filled with his endless notes and to do lists, all neatly numbered or marked in the margins.

She shoved him again, teasingly, and he laid back, bringing her with him, then rolled to the side to pin her against the quilted duvet on the bed. She was about to say something snarky, but when she looked down he was focused on her breasts, looking at her like an oasis in the desert. Her nipples were already hard, but she could feel them tighten even more at the attention, as the hot ache between her legs built again. 

"Beautiful,” he muttered just before dragging his lips down the slope of her breast. For all that he had imagined this, for all the times he had taken himself in hand with visions of her dancing behind his eyelids, ashamed and aroused in almost equal measure, never had his thoughts of her come anywhere close to the reality. 

His mouth closed around her nipple, and she dug her nails into his shoulder as her other hand grasped at the bed, clutching the duvet. He worried the peak with lips and tongue and teeth, delighted by the little cries and moans he pulled from her. Her head fell back, hips shifting forward, demanding more, but he had plans and he wouldn’t be swayed from them.

He pulled back with a wet pop, switching breasts, but bringing his hand up to tease where he'd left. Belle’s hips shifted again, chasing friction where his cock pressed against her and feeling the heat through the fabric of his boxers. His hand slid under her arse, helping her rock, until her breaths were coming in short gasps and she felt sweat beading along her hairline.

Then she felt his hands on her thighs, sliding lower, and her legs opened to let him lay between them. She was so slick that she was almost embarrassed, but then his tongue traced her folds softly and coherent thought became a fleeting thing. She spread her legs further apart, wanting more of his touch. He was almost methodical in his exploration, suckling her swollen lips before moving down to dip his tongue in her entrance, licking at her wetness. His fingers slipped inside so easily, two at once, as he rose up to watch her. Sparks of pleasure shot up her spine as her hands clutched the pillow under her head, hips undulating with the motion of his hand. 

Her release was close, but just out of reach, and she knew this was some kind of payback for her stunt last night. He was going to make her beg, and she didn’t care. She would do it all over again if it meant finally having him in her bed and having their feelings out in the open.

" _Please, please, please_ ," Belle sobbed between ragged gasps of air. 

Gold’s mouth twitched as he lowered his head. His lips sealed over her clit, sucking hard, and she cried out, pulling at his hair. Fingers twisted inside her, pushing deep until he felt her body grasping at him. He stroked and licked her to climax, using his tongue to press her clit against the edge of his teeth.

The sharpness was just what she needed and her body arched involuntarily as her orgasm hit hard. Her mouth opened and a short scream came out, but he didn’t stop, moving as she moved. Her thighs squeezed his head as her body trembled and her mind went blank. He moaned and it rippled through her, pulling one last little squeak from her lips as he finally slowed and eased his fingers free. His tongue lapped at her, drinking down everything she had as the shaking of her legs began to ease and she fell limp against the mattress.

He propped himself up on an elbow, and smiled when her eyes blinked open. “You’re delicious, sweetheart.”

Belle wet her lips and reached towards him, urging him up her body. She kissed him hard, licking her arousal from his mouth and down his chin before she sucked at his neck. The sudden need to mark him hit her, and she nipped him with her teeth. She wanted him to go into Regina’s office on Monday red from her lips and barely able to hide it with the starched collar of his shirt. She wanted her scent on him as he handed in his resignation, and the first thought in his head as he left the museum for the last time to be of her waiting in bed for him wearing nothing but one of his silk ties.

She broke the kiss roughly, feeling the pull of his teeth over her bottom lip, and then lifted her hips. In the moment he was unbalanced above her, she rolled and flipped them, landing atop his thighs with a soft grunt. His startled look almost made her second guess her move, but the way his hands tensed at her waist and the hitch in his breathing told her it was more than welcome.

“You like this.” It was a statement, not a question, and he nodded as she pulled his boxers down and off. “You liked what I did in your office, taking control, taking what I wanted from you.” Another nod, and she hummed, smiling and resettling her hips over his. “Say it.”

The neat swell of her breasts, soft and small, the dusky pink of her nipples, the crease of her hip bones, the smattering of freckles across her collarbones; every part of her was perfect, and Gold found his mouth too dry to speak. His hands smoothed over the curve of her lower back, feeling the fineness of the bones beneath her skin. She moved again and he encouraged her to grind down against his hardness, almost painful now with want of her. 

“Belle - we need - something,” he managed, hoping she understood what he meant. He never thought he’d be in this position, and he’d long stopped carrying condoms in his wallet.

Belle stopped, the head of his cock nestled between her slick folds and nudging her clit. She licked her lips, tasting a hint of sweat, and looked down at him. “I have condoms,” she said. “But, um, I also have an IUD, so...”

He blinked, his brain processing slower than usual because all he could focus on was the heat pressed along his length.

"Emery?" she asked him breathlessly.

"Yes, _god_ , yes," he answered her, and then she was moving, rising above him, hesitating just for an instant as she took him in hand. 

He wrapped his hands around the curve of her hips, fingers holding onto her flesh for dear life, willing himself not to move, to let her be in control again. Slowly, she lowered herself down onto his cock, and at the first sensation of her heat swirling around him his head slammed back against the pillows, his fingers digging into her flesh hard enough to bruise. 

She gasped, tensing and then relaxing against him, slowly working him deeper and deeper inside her. Her body was more than ready, slick and sticky from his hands and mouth, but she wanted to make this feeling last as long as possible. This was the first time she’d have him inside her, the first time she’d feel the sensation of her pussy stretching around his cock.

The steady stream of whimpers and sighs that left her lips had his cock throbbing, but he made himself wait, relishing the view of her flushed skin and open mouth, the edges of her nails pricking his abdomen. She moaned and trembled as she sunk down the rest of the way and buried him inside her.

"Bloody hell," he growled. Around him she was hot and wet, soft and perfect, and he swore to himself that he was never giving her up, never pushing her away. As long as she’d have him, he was hers.

Belle moaned in response, rocking against him, her hands shifting to his chest to hold her in place as they started to move together. With every downward thrust of her hips he watched her breasts bouncing softly, and felt the rush of wetness between them, heard her sharp gasps floating in the air. 

The drag of his cock against the soft walls of her sex, the friction that built between them as she ground down messily against him, was driving her insane. She wanted to go slow, to tease him and prolong the inevitable. She wanted to relish the control he had given her, but he reached up and started tugging her nipples, tweaking the hardened buds between thumb and forefinger. Her steady rhythm faltered, and the urgent need to move was almost more than she could bear. 

“Emery, please,” she gasped. “Please, please.”

She became self-conscious of the fact that it was only her voice filling the silence of the bedroom and she bit her lip, trying to hold back.

Gold’s thumb brushed her mouth and she opened, sucking it into her mouth. “I want to hear you, sweetheart.” He bucked into her and she keened. “Fuck me like I know you want to. Take what you need, darling.”

His accent was thick, garbling his words, and she groaned and drove her hips down. Reaching between their bodies, he set his hand where they were joined, giving her something to rub against. She pitched forward, moving furiously, chasing her pleasure. Her head lolled back, exposing the length of her throat, and his hand slid down from her face, splaying across her neck. The sweat on her skin made her feel hot and wet and wanton, and she wrapped her hand around his wrist, holding his hand in place, loving the feeling of his palm pressing against her pulse as it thrummed beneath her skin.

He wanted her to fuck him, to take what she wanted from him, and _god_ , she was magnificent as she did. He let her hold his hand to her throat, and the sight of his fingers there, fitting into the lines and dips between muscles, was somehow more erotic than his hands on her breasts. His hips rose up to meet her on every thrust, pressing into her harder and faster, until her legs started to shake. He was close, but made himself breathe, trying to hold off long enough to make her come one last time. It was paradise, it was bliss, it was heaven on earth, the way she held him, the way he filled her.

Belle couldn’t help it; her hips snapped, her hands and nails leaving red trails on his chest as she cried out. “Yes! Fuck!”

She forced her eyes open, and met his dark, sparkling eyes, cheeks flushed with pleasure – pleasure caused by her. His name became a prayer, muttered and screamed with each thrust inside her. His hand found her breast again, and she groaned, pushing herself down onto his cock and forward into his palm. 

They babbled nonsense at each other, desperately seeking mutual release, but her legs started to ache and she fell to the side. Gold rolled them over, pushing her into the mattress and pinning one of her hands above her head as he continued to thrust into her. The other hand reached down and hiked her leg up around his hip so the angle was deeper, better. 

Belle felt her body clench around him, her eyes flashing with light as she panted and gasped. Her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him against her as she came. He groaned, burying his head in her neck and came inside her, warmth flooding her as he shook in her arms.

His head dropped to her shoulder, his breath warm on the shell of her ear. She stroked his back and smiled as they breathed, her throat swelling with emotion. “I love you.”

Gold kissed her neck. His cock was softening inside her, but he was reluctant to move, to break this precious moment. He felt her lips press gently to his ear, then his cheek, and he pulled back. His touch was soft and reverent and he pushed her hair from her forehead, and touched his lips to hers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighed. He kissed the tip of her nose, nuzzling her as he smiled. “I love you, too. So much.”

Reluctantly, they got out of bed and cleaned themselves up. As Belle was pulling on her discarded t-shirt, her stomach rumbled loudly, causing Gold to chuckle.

“Hungry?”

She shrugged and then yanked the shirt over her head. “All I could manage for food today was some eggs. My stomach was too unsettled.”

He pulled up his boxers and frowned at her. “Why?”

Belle gave him a look. “Because I was too busy fretting and pacing around my apartment waiting for an email to tell me I was fired.”

He winced and limped to her side. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” He reached for her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “In my defense, I was pacing around my office waiting for _you_ to email _me_ your resignation.”

She laughed and pulled her hand away, swatting him playfully on the arm. “We’re hopeless.” He smiled and nodded, as she tossed her leggings towards the hamper by her dresser. “You wanna go get something?”

Gold bent awkwardly to fetch his trousers from the floor. He eyed the stain on the leg, evidence of the orgasm Belle had when he shoved her against the wall, and held up them so she could see. “Go as in _out?_ ”

She bit her lip and pulled the trousers out of his hand. “I guess we could order in, but it’s a Saturday so it might take a while.” Then she dropped the stained garment to the floor and looped her arms around his neck as he started to grin. 

“And while we’re waiting,” she continued, pushing up on her toes to brush her lips over his, “you can tell me what’s on the rest of this filthy little list of yours.”

He made a low noise into her mouth and his hands tensed at her waist, pulling her flush against him. “I’d rather show you...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, I'm not sure how many noticed, but there's a fair bit of backstory for these two and it's spawned quite the detailed remix, beginning with their trip to Greece and that fateful moment when Belle showed up at Gold's hotel room, and continuing on from there, getting at least 150% more angsty than this current version. I may actually try to tackle this sometime this year, if anyone is interested.


End file.
